Alone and Forgotten
by JustMakeLeftTurns
Summary: Canada hasn't always been Canada. He used to be Vinland. He used to be Acadia and New France. But no one remembers. No one remembers him, as he is or as he was. Oneshot.


**Okay, so, I wanted to do a mini oneshot/drabble fic on Vinland – which was mentioned briefly in 'Losing Sight of Yourself'. I've wanted to do a fic on Vinland for awhile. This is nowhere near good writing. It was spontaneous. And I'm visiting family in Canada right now, so I felt a bit more motivated to write **_**some**_**thing about the country.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.**

OoOoOo

Always alone.

Always forgotten.

But it's okay. He's used to it. After a couple thousand years of being abandoned, he's gotten used to it. He's invisible, now. In some ways, he enjoys it. It means that no one can ever 'befriend' him, only to leave in the end. No one will ever forget him again – for they've already forgotten, and you can't forget what you don't remember.

At the same time, he hates being invisible. The days are lonely. Every day is a curse. If he can't contribute to any of the World Conferences or G8 meetings, etc., then what's the point of even existing? Why does he even attend in the first place, when he knows he'll be overlooked. Again.

No one – human or country – remembers Vinland – his first name. The Vikings – Norwegian – had discovered him. The first country he'd met was Norway. Norway hadn't been the best brother, but he hadn't asked for anything except love. He loved being with someone like him. Sure, he didn't mind being alone with his people – the Natives – but here was someone else, someone different, someone who could teach him about the other countries, someone who could help him grow big and strong.

But Norway – and the Vikings – left. No warning whatsoever. And he's never been given an explanation. Even the few humans who know what Vinland is – was – don't know why the Vikings left. He keeps thinking it's his fault, somehow. Maybe if he'd done something differently, Norway would have stayed.

And he was alone. Again.

He waited for Norway to return. He never did.

When they met again in a World Meeting, Norway had no recognition, and quickly forgot his name, as everyone else did. He ignored the pang in his heart and went on as he usually did.

After Norway, was France. His new name was Acadia, not Vinland any longer. He learned how to speak French to please his Papa. For once in his life, he was happy. But he had two names, which confused him – Acadia and New France – which one was he supposed to be? And yet, he was happy. Until England decided to take over. Only Acadia – the rest of his land was still French. He remembered being so confused – two completely different cultures, completely different people tried to control him. He was so young. Neither England nor France cared.

And when his people were forced out of Acadia – Oh! It hurt, how it hurt. He gained a hatred for England that day. How dare he send away his people – the Acadians! They were split up over the other English colonies – some went to some French colony south of him – a few escaped to the other French-controlled parts of him. But the English – they quickly gained control of him. And, how it hurt. In what seemed like no time, he was fully controlled by the English.

And forgotten by France.

Never remembered by England – the man had America, his pride and joy, after all.

It was then that he gained a hatred for England. And France. And America. England tore him away from his Papa. His Papa forgot him right away – why hadn't the man tried to get him back? America had always been England's favorite, and so his attention was always on the southern colony. He was just there. And went by the name Canada, now.

Even when he'd fought in wars, he'd been forgotten. Why don't people his contribution? He's been the only one to burn down the White House. He'd been the one who won Vimy Ridge against Germany in World War I when no other country had been able to. He'd been at the Battle of Normandy. He's been to so many wars, and yet no one – human or country – knows that he was there.

He supposes it doesn't matter. He still exists. He's still alive. He's never been at war with another country directly – he'd always been dragged into it by some country or other. No one ever waged war on him – only the English or French, but they weren't _him_.

Is that a bad thing? To only be sort-of-but-not-really noticed when some country – a long, long time ago – was at war with England or France? He doesn't know anymore. Doesn't care.

He's always alone.

He's always forgotten.

That's just the way it is.

OoOoOo

**I didn't really research much of this. I've only briefly heard about Vimy Ridge in one or two other fanfictions, and that's the extent of my knowledge of that. I know a little bit about Vinland. And I did a project on Acadia, but it was focused on what are now called Cajuns in the southern United States.**

**If you don't understand something, let me know and I'll explain it to the best of my ability.**

**Please review!**


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